


To Have What Once Was Lost

by Koli_1997



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Brain Damage, Gen, Permanent Injury, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-01-21 13:11:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12458496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Koli_1997/pseuds/Koli_1997
Summary: Years after a fire killed his family, Derek returns to Beacon Hills with his sister Laura.  Working as an in-home aide, he meets Stiles, a 16-year old with a traumatic brain injury.  Together they navigate a path to healing and acceptance.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I have been playing around with in my mind and wanted to get written down. It is my first Teen Wolf story and only my third attempt at writing fan fiction. I don't mind comments and appreciate constructive criticism.

It hadn’t started as a particularly remarkable November day. The Stilinski family got up to start their day as normal. Noah starting the coffee and Claudia taking on the normal task of getting their 10-year old son Stiles up and ready for school. Of the two tasks, Claudia’s was a lot harder. It wasn’t that Stiles was difficult in the sense that he wouldn’t get up out of bed or fought them tooth and nail about going to school. On the contrary, he loved school and was ready to bounce out of bed the moment his alarm went off. The challenge lay in keeping him focused on getting three important jobs knocked out: getting dressed, eating breakfast and brushing his teeth. The Stilinski’s used to include getting his backpack and homework together, but soon learned that was a lost cause in the morning. The backpack was prepped the night before and Noah would place it by the door to ensure nothing was forgotten. One would think that the remaining items would be easy enough, but for Stiles, who had ADHD, it was like being asked to climb Mt. Everest every morning. 

“Stiles get the lead out and brush your teeth!” Claudia called up the stairs and turned to accept a cup of coffee from her husband. “Thank you hon. I gotta get back up there before he decides the grout needs cleaning.” 

They both chuckled. They learned a few years ago to buy toothbrushes in bulk because Stiles always found a use for his that had nothing to do with dental hygiene.

Everyone made it out the door and to their appropriate destinations. Noah was a deputy for the county sheriff, Claudia an assistant at the local florist and Stiles a 4th grader at Beacon Hill Elementary. It was going to be a half day at school to accommodate some kind of teacher’s conference so Claudia was going to pick up Stiles and then meet up with Noah at the sheriff’s station for a late lunch. 

That was the plan.

But then that plan and their whole future was destroyed in one moment.

The call came in at 12:45pm. A tractor trailer had plowed into a small, blue jeep at an intersection. Ambulances had been dispatched and there was at least one fatality. 

Noah’s heart stopped for a what felt like an eternity. From the very depths of his soul, he knew that it was Claudia’s jeep. He rushed to the scene to see the fire department with the jaws of life trying to open the driver’s side door of the jeep. Based on the damage alone, Noah knew there was no way his wife could have survived that impact. He wanted to just fall apart right then. Claudia, his beautiful, intelligent, vivacious wife was dead.

He then noticed movement on the other side of the jeep. Paramedics were extracting someone. 

Stiles! Noah ran towards the jeep only to be stopped by another deputy.

“Noah! I know you want to get to Stiles, but trust me, you need to stay here. You don’t need to see Claudia like this.” Tara kept a firm grip on him. “Noah, look at me!”

Noah turned his gaze to Tara’s face. “Stiles is alive and they are taking him to Beacon Hill Memorial. I am going to take you there, okay?”

“Wha- What about Claudia? I don’t want her to be alone.” Noah felt the tears start pouring down his face. He needed to be with both his wife and son and now he had to choose.

“Noah, the sheriff is going to stay with Claudia. He won’t leave her side. You need to go be with your son.” Tara turned him away from the wreckage and towards her patrol car.


	2. Chapter 2

Six years later.

Derek sat in his Camaro looking at the number on the house and checking it against his paperwork. Though he had been with the assisted living agency for a year, this new assignment was outside his normal clients. Given his build and quiet demeanor, he often provided care for severely disabled adults whose families were unable to physically assist them anymore. An able bodied 16-year old definitely did not fall in that category.

Derek didn’t really need to work. After the fire that killed his family, he had enough money from his trust and the insurance company that he could live the high life like those trust fund babies he encountered while finishing school in New York. His sister, Laura who had also survived the fire had wanted to go to NYU and he had still been in high school so he had to tag along. 

Laura was able to get her degree in nursing and found a position as a registered nurse at Beacon Hill Memorial. Both of them wanted to move back. This is where their family was buried and it was good to have the distance from there initially, but Beacon Hills was their home.

They arranged for a contractor to rebuild the family home so when they got back, they didn’t have to look at the burnt corpse of the original house. 

Derek took a course for in-home care at the hospital. He didn’t really want a career in medicine, but this gave him a sense of purpose and a way to spend his time. He needed the distraction as well and focusing on someone else’s needs meant he didn’t have to look so closely at his own problems.

“Everyone we’ve placed at the Stilinski’s has never made it more than 6 weeks.” Derek’s supervisor had informed him. “That family needs an aide that can handle a client that is…” the supervisor floundered for the right word, “…a bit more devious than most."

Devious? Who was this kid, the Joker? What exactly this kid had done to make every aide quit in such a short time, Derek didn’t know and his supervisor wasn’t sharing. Hopefully the kid’s father would be more forthcoming in their meeting today. He took a deep breath, exited the vehicle and walked towards the house. As he walked up the steps, the front door opened revealing a middle-aged man with blue eyes.

“Can I help you?” the man inquired.

“Mr. Stilinski?” the man nodded. “I’m Derek Hale, the new home care aide.” Derek extended his hand and waited as the man just stared at him. After an uncomfortable moment, he withdrew the hand. “Is something wrong?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry, you just don’t look like any of the previous aides.” Noah replied.

“How so?”

“Well, for one, you’re male.” At seeing Derek’s facial response, Noah clarified, “Not that its a problem, its just all the previous aides were women.” He then added, “and most of the aides don’t wear leather jackets or look to be in their 20's.” Noah chuckled.

Feeling a bit more at ease, Derek laughed lightly as well. “I’m sorry the company didn’t inform you about exactly what you were getting."

“No, I’m sorry, it just caught me off guard. Please come in.” Noah stepped back and allowed Derek entry into the house. It looked like a frat house. Pizza boxes on the counter, clothes on the floor. The only thing missing was empty alcohol bottles and half naked co-eds.

“Sorry about the mess.” Noah apologized as they walked through to the dining room table. “With the last aide leaving a week ago, I’ve been trying to keep an eye on Stiles and work and well, picking up just wasn’t in the cards.”

“I’ve heard Stiles can be a handful.” Derek was hoping that Noah would elaborate on just how much of a handful he could be and wasn’t disappointed.

“Yes, he can.” Noah looked almost wistful. “Even before the accident six years ago, he was a challenge, but now its liked it got dialed up from 10 to 100. How much do you know of our situation?”

“Just what little is in the file.” Derek responded with a shrug. “He suffers from a traumatic brain injury, is able-bodied and can handle his own basic care and hygiene.”

“Wow, they sent you in blind.” Noah looked surprised at Derek’s lack of knowledge about his son. “Okay, let me give you a detailed history. Yes, my son does have a traumatic brain injury, which occurred six years ago when a tractor trailer hit my wife’s car. My wife was killed instantly and our son was in the hospital for two weeks with multiple fractures and a severe head injury. Prior to the accident, Stiles was already diagnosed with ADHD and taking Adderall. Post-accident, his issues with focus, anxiety and impulse control have exacerbated significantly. I had to step down from my position as deputy and take a desk job to care for him.”

Derek had to imagine that going from field work to desk duty must have been tough. This accident altered the entire future of this family.

“Some of the issues weren’t apparent at first, the doctors refer to this as ‘growing into a brain injury’ - that you don’t know what was affected until you encounter a situation that requires a particular cognitive function. Up until the last year, I’ve tried to manage by myself, but I was promoted and moved to the third shift at work and Stiles can’t be home alone."

Noah sighed. It pained him to admit that he couldn’t care for his son in the way he needed. The third shift paid a lot more, which was necessary to maintain Stiles care. The department, knowing the situation even included a special stipend to cover the cost of an aide. Noah wasn’t sure that was entirely legal, but he was grateful nonetheless.

“Stiles can’t process complex instructions, so if you need him to do anything, you have to work through it one step at a time otherwise, he’ll get overwhelmed. Due to the accident, he does have some degree of PTSD - tractor trailer horns in particular can cause him to have a flashback to the crash. He also has chronic insomnia as well as night terrors, so bedtime is always a chore. Right now we do seem to have decent medication that is helping him get to sleep a bit more easily. At school, he has a full-time aide and an IEP structured to work within his limitations. Please understand that while he has a brain injury, it did nothing to affect his intelligence. Stiles is smart as a whip and he knows that he can’t process information properly and it frustrates him. He can’t stop himself from acting out on a thought or saying something he shouldn’t. It embarrasses him that he can’t and he hates that he needs someone to keep an eye on him to ensure he doesn’t accidentally burn down the house.”

“Is that a real concern? The house burning?” Noah was about to reply with a sarcastic remark until he saw the the color drain from Derek’s face.

“Let’s just say that the oven and microwave are always off limits to Stiles.” Derek nodded. He inwardly chastised himself for reacting to the statement and then before Mr. Stilinski could ask him about his reaction he decided to do a quick deflection.

“What would a typical day look like for me with Stiles?”

“He needs to picked up from school at 3:30. He can’t drive, which rankles him to no end, but he’s also been banned from the bus because he can’t stay in his seat on there. Once he comes home, I usually recommend that you give him 30 minutes to decompress before having him start his homework. Now, he’ll try to con you into believing he does it after dinner, but his focus will be completely shot by then and there is no way in hell it will happen. He needs help staying on task, but he can’t sit for that long. You do need to allow him to get up, walk around and then let him refocus. Ensure he eats dinner by 7pm, some of his medications suppress the appetite and he will skip meals if given the option. Then it is medication, shower and getting ready for bed by 8pm.”

Derek raised his eyebrows. Eight? No teenager gets ready for bed that early. Noah noticed and elaborated a bit.

"I know that seems early, but it takes him a good 3-4 hours to settle down enough to sleep. You have to stay in the room with him, which he hates, but he has hurt himself or destroyed something because he’ll get an idea and he doesn’t have the impulse control to not do it. For instance, last year he watched some ninja movie and decided to try out some of the moves like running up the wall and doing a backflip. That resulted in a dislocated shoulder. I get home at 11-11:30pm and take over from there. There is a second mattress in there that I push against the door and sleep on because Stiles also sleepwalks and this has been the best method to ensure he stays in the house and I actually get some rest.”

Derek was not prepared for all of this. Normally, it was just lift the patient from the bed to the wheelchair or the bath. He never had to be tied so closely to a patient before nor worry about what they might do at any moment.

“One other thing. This doesn’t happen often, but you need to be aware. Stiles doesn’t have speech difficulties per se. In fact, it is difficult to get him to stop talking most of the time, but if he gets acutely stressed, he starts to lose the ability to express himself. When this happens, if you can’t calm him down right away - and sometimes you just won’t be able to, it will cause him to panic, which will in turn affect his speech even more to the point he won’t be able to talk at all. He will have a meltdown and I don’t mean just cry. He will be in a blind panic and can be physically violent. I have in the kitchen and upstairs in the bathroom syringes with a strong sedative. You will have to sedate him or he will hurt you or himself. Now you seem like the type that can take care of yourself, but I don’t know if you have ever dealt with someone in a psychotic rage.”

Derek shook his head no.

“Once he has a meltdown, there is nothing you can do to calm him down and it isn’t safe to just let him ride it out. If for any reason you need to leave the house with him, you need to take a syringe with you. In six years, I have only needed it once, but believe me, it was worth it. If you have to use one, call me immediately and I will come home. Depending on how he is once it wears off, I may need to take him to the hospital.”

In other words, to the psych ward, Derek thought. Poor kid. It was no wonder the kid was pissed off. His every move was watched and there was the looming concern of him losing his mind. If he was as smart as Mr. Stilinski indicated, Stiles must hate how his brain has turned on him.

“Mr. Stilinski, in the beginning you also mentioned Stiles has night terrors. If he has one before you get home, how would you prefer I deal with it?”

“Typically, I get in the bed behind him and pull him into a bear hug to keep him from running or hurting himself. Normally, if they happen at all, it's in the early morning hours, so you probably won’t encounter one.” Noah was impressed that Derek recalled that detail and had the wherewithal to ask how he would prefer it handled. Most aides came in with their tried and true methods and he had arguments with more than one about how things would go down with his son.

“So, does this sound like something you can handle?” Noah looked at Derek seriously. 

“I’ll be honest Mr. Stilinski, this is outside of the care I normally provide.” Derek started off slowly. “But, after listening to you describe his condition and the expectations, I think I can work with Stiles. There may be some bumps in the road initially as the word around work is he likes to put new aides through the wringer, but I can empathize with his frustration and some of the indignity he must experience with the level of supervision he requires.”

“You are the first aide to talk about something from Stiles’ perspective. I appreciate that. Derek, I love my son more than anything and having to bring strangers into our home is hard on both of us. And you’re right. He will put you through the wringer. He’s not outright disobedient, but he is quick to assess what bugs a person and once he has it, he will be relentless.”

Awesome, Derek thought. This might be a disaster waiting to happen, but this position was full time and ensured he would be out of the house more.

“So when do I meet him?”

“Scott, Stile’s friend has his mom picking the both of them up today. So he will be here in about 15 minutes."


	3. Chapter 3

“Dude, there is no way Coach is going to play you on Friday!” Stiles loved his best friend, but sometimes he was a little too “if you believe it, it can happen” with things in life. Life doesn't work that way and Stiles was living proof of that. “Especially, with Jackson the Wunderkind playing,” he added to make his point.

“You don’t know that Stiles! My asthma hasn't interfered with practice at all this week and Coach Finstock said if I didn’t have an attack during practice he would put me in.” Scott argued back.

They were riding with Scott’s mom, Melissa’s car on their way from school to Stile’s house. The McCall’s had been kind enough to help out Stile’s dad while they were between in-home aides. If it were up to Stiles, he would ride with the McCalls every day of the week, but it wasn’t feasible. Melissa worked at the hospital and her shifts rotated all the time, so she couldn’t always pick them up and they only had the one car. 

Even if Scott had a car, it would be awkward for Stiles to ride with him. He wasn’t allowed to ride in the front seat because he had on more than one occasion accidentally opened the passenger door while in transit. It had scared the crap out of both him and his dad. The back was safer because it had child-proof locks so when Stiles’ hands wandered as they tended to do and pulled on the door handle, the door stayed closed. So there he sat in the back seat with Scott and trying to give him a reality check.

“Hey Melissa, do you think Scott could hang out at my place for a bit? You know, you and my dad can catch up on what it’s like raising adolescent boys or something.” Stiles shot her a puppy dog look with his amber eyes.

“Sorry kiddo. I have the night shift tonight and your dad wants you to meet your new aide. Besides, Scott has to study for his Chemistry test. Isn’t, that right?” Melissa gave a pointed look to her son through the rear-view mirror.

“Mr. Harris is a dick!”

“Stiles!” Melissa exclaimed.

“Well he is. He hates both Scott and me. The only reason I’m passing is because the school doesn’t want to flunk the Sheriff’s retarded son.” Mr. Harris was notorious for picking favorites in his classes. Unfortunately, being his favorite was not something to be desired, instead it meant being openly mocked and ridiculed in front of the class and getting graded more harshly than everyone else. This year, Mr. Harris had set his sights on Scott. Stiles was pretty sure it was because Scott was friends with him and Mr. Harris couldn’t actually do anything to him while his school appointed aide was sitting there.

“Man don’t say that about yourself!” Scott elbowed him in the ribs. He hated the way Stiles constantly put himself down. “But he is right mom, Mr. Harris does hate me. I don’t think studying is going to change the outcome of my grade.”

“I seriously doubt your teacher hates you. If you applied yourself in class instead of chatting,” Melissa shoots both boys a look, “you would probably do better on the tests. And Stiles,” she flicked her eyes over to him, “Scott’s right. You are not retarded, I can’t even stand that word. You have obstacles to overcome for learning, but that doesn’t make you a lost cause or a charity case. You earn your grades the same as everyone else."

Stiles averted his eyes and grumbled in acquiescence. He hated all the accommodations that had to be made for him. Plus, no one wants to be the teenager that has to have an chaperone 24 hours a day. While the McCalls knew what Stiles was capable of, to the rest of the world he was something to pity or to make fun of and it put a real damper on making headway with the opposite sex.

Thinking of girls, Stiles glanced over at Scott. “Do you think Lydia will be at the game Friday?”

Lydia Martin was Stiles’ longtime, unrequited crush. She also happened to that douchebag, Jackson Whittmore’s girlfriend.

“I’m sure she will. She and Jackson have that whole power couple thing going on.” Scott grimaced a bit as he recalled Jackson and Lydia’s epic make out session on the field after the last game. “I mean, who would Jackson suck face with after he wins the game?”

Stiles snorted. “There’s always Greenberg!”

Both boys crack up at the thought of Jackson and Greenberg making out.

“Hey Stiles!” Stiles looked up at Melissa. “We’re almost to your house. Can you do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Please try to get along with this aide.” Stiles’ face flushed a bit and his head shot down. “I know you don’t like having an aide at home, but you know its necessary and your dad can’t keep switching his schedule every few weeks when you send one packing.”

“I know.” Stiles replied softly. He knew his dad didn’t deserve all the trouble Stiles put him through, but the idea of some middle aged woman trying to talk to him like a four year old drove him nuts. The last thing he wanted to do at night was look at pictures of his spinster aide’s cats and have them try to cut up his food as if Stiles was unable to master the use of a fork and knife.

“Who knows, maybe the new one will be kind of cool?” Scott chimed in.

“Dude, you need to change your name to Pollyanna!” Stiles rolled his eyes and then looked back over to Melissa. “I promise to give the new lady a chance.”

“That’s al-“ Melissa started, but something caught Stile’s eye as they approached his house and he interjected, “Dude, is that a Camaro in my driveway?!” 

Scott looked up at the car. “Maybe your new aide is Knight Rider?” Stiles looked at Scott in disbelief. One, KITT was a Pontiac Trans Am and two, there is no way one of his aides could ever have afforded such a nice car. So either this new aide had a side business as a drug dealer or something was afoot.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not super happy with this chapter, but after a 3 day NyQuil stupor, this is the best I could manage. May revise later.

Stiles sprung from the car as soon as Melissa opened the backseat door. He uttered a quick thank you and waved to Scott, then immediately set his focus on the Camaro. It was a newer model and obviously well kept. 

“Definitely a drug dealer. Bet this chick steals meds from all her patients and sells them on the side.” Stiles ran his hand over his buzzed hair. How was he going to prove this to his dad? Out right accusations would get him nowhere, but if he caught her in the act, his dad would have to listen. Nothing like cold, hard evidence to prove a point.

Resolved with how to approach the situation, Stiles turned to the house and walked up the porch and opened the door. “Dad! I’m home!”

“Come in the kitchen Stiles!” his father called back. “I want you to meet the new aide.”

“Yeah, new aide. Aiding and abetting herself to my meds.” he muttered under his breath. It wasn’t a perfect analogy, but it did make him chuckle. He turned the corner into the kitchen and began to greet the aide, “Hey there, I’m…” Stiles faltered for a moment, taking in the aide’s appearance. “Dude, you have a dick!”

Noah choked on his coffee. Let it never be said that Stiles had tact. “Stiles!"

“Dad, he does! Since when do my aides have dicks?” Stiles looked exasperatedly at his father. “You want this guy to sit in my room like a creeper while I try to sleep? Seriously?”

Derek watched the exchange between the two Stilinskis with amused interest. While both men were clearly surprised by the fact that Derek was a guy, Noah had seemed accepting of him while the kid looked at him like he was a pedophile. The two did not look anything alike. Stiles hair, though buzzed short was dark brown, his skin pale with a few moles decorating his face and amber-colored eyes. Must take after the mother, Derek assumed. Despite their differences, the Stilinski men seemed to share a lot of the same facial expressions.

“Stiles you always complained about having middle-aged women sitting with you at night.” Noah started to argue back.

“I know, but look at this guy! Leather jacket, stubble and fancy sports car. People who look and dress like this aren’t aides dad. They’re drug dealers!” Crap, so much for waiting to have cold, hard evidence.

“Excuse me, may I interject?” Both Stilinskis looked over to Derek. “Hi there Stiles, my name is Derek Hale. I’ve been working as an aide for year now and my sister Laura is a registered nurse over at Beacon Hills Memorial.”

“Hale?” Stiles mind started turning. “You mean like the Hale house fire?”

Derek winced a bit. Conversations about the fire were never easy. “Yeah, one and the same. So, the car is paid for through my trust fund, not drugs or other illegal activities.”

Stiles face made the “oh” expression and he turned a bit red. Noah looked a bit embarrassed as well. He hadn’t put together who Derek was and now the reaction earlier about setting the house on fire made so much more sense. Unfortunately, Stiles’ embarrassment was short lived and he was back on the defensive.

“So, you don’t need to work then?” Derek shook his head no. “Okay, then you must be a creeper if watching pubescent boys sleep gets you off.”

“Stiles! That is enough!” Noah gave his son a look that showed he was not joking around and Stiles quickly shut his mouth and stared at the ground hard. “Derek, I apologize for my son’s accusations. As I said earlier, he isn’t a fan of having an aide in general.” Turning to his son, “Stiles, I know this is not how we thought things would turn out for us, but we play the cards we’re dealt.” Stiles quietly nodded, but didn’t look up. “I cannot take off more time from work and you can’t stay here by yourself. This is our last chance here kiddo. Either things work with Derek or I’m going to have to find another job.”

Stiles looked up at his father, his eyes red. “What do you mean, find another job? Can’t you just go back to second shift? I know the pay isn’t as good, but we didn’t need help then.”

“Son, that position is filled now. It’s either third shift or nothing now. Do you understand?” Stiles looked his father in the eyes and nodded. 

Looking over at Derek, “Sorry for calling you a creeper, dude. It’s just that all the other aides have been spinsters with a million cats. You don’t have cats do you?” 

“I accept your apology and for the record, no, I don’t have cats and my name is Derek, not dude.” Inwardly, Derek died a little bit as he saw a spark in Stiles’ eye as he corrected him on his name. What had Noah said, once Stiles knows what buttons to push, he would be relentless.

“Cool, no cats. That’s great because I’ve seen enough cat photos to last like three lifetimes.” All the while, Stiles was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. 

Noah’s gaze flickered between Derek and Stiles and he sighed. This was probably the best he could expect from Stiles off the bat. “Well, let’s get things started. My first day back on third shift starts tomorrow. So I will have you shadow me today Derek so you know what is expected of you and,” glancing over at Stiles knowingly, “ensure that this guy doesn’t try to weasel out of anything.”

Stiles puts his hands up, his eyes wide, trying to look innocent. “Dad, I would never…” Both Noah and Derek chuckle at that one.


	5. Chapter 5

Laura Hale was just getting settled on the sofa with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s and two spoons when she heard the front door open. “Derek that you?”

“No, it’s a masked villain here to steal your jewels.” a deadpanned voice called from the foyer.

“Well, your tough out of luck then. I don’t have any jewels!” Laura smiled as Derek walked into the living room. “Welcome home Der. Glad to see the new client didn’t keep you too late tonight.”

Derek glanced at his watch, it was a quarter to midnight and shrugged. “I think this will be the normal time I get home. The dad gets home by 11:30 and it’s not like there is a ton of traffic on the road this time of night.” Sitting down next to Laura and frowned. “Chunky Monkey? Really?”

“Hey! We ate Cherry Garcia last week. Chunky’s my choice.” Handing a spoon to Derek and smiling while taking another bite of ice cream. “So, since its my choice for dessert that means you get to vent first.” After all they had been through over the years since the fire, they tried to be there for each other and nightly ice cream and vent sessions were a staple to their routine.

“This client is going to be different sis.” Derek reached over and grabbed a small scoop of ice cream. “I’ve never worked with a kid - well teenager before and it's not like he needs physical assistance to do stuff.”

“What’s his diagnosis?” 

“TBI plus ADHD is the main thing. Physically he’s okay, but he has to have constant supervision because if he thinks it, he does it.” Laura laughed. “No, Laura, I’m serious! The kid has no ability to stop and consider anything before he acts. I thought his dad was exaggerating, but watching them go through their daily routine, I think he might have under played it a bit.”

“What did he do?” Laura was intrigued and dug into the ice cream some more. Victims of traumatic brain injuries were fascinating cases to her because they always manifested so differently.

“Well, let’s see, both he and his dad were surprised to find out their new aide was a guy. The kid's first words were ‘Dude! You have a dick’” 

Laura almost spit out her ice cream. “Well, at least you know he’s got his genders down.”

Derek chuckled. “Yeah, he then proceeded to accuse me of being a pedophile. Later while doing his homework, he was reading about World War II and it mentioned Belgium, which led to waffles, which in turn led to him dropping an entire bag of flour on the kitchen floor. His dad told him to clean it up, but on his way to get the broom he noticed some people across the street and was halfway out the door before his dad stopped him.”

“Why was he going outside?”

“He thought they might be drug dealers and that I had invited them there to buy his meds. So he was going out there to break them up.” Derek leaned back and ran his hand through his hair. “Laura this kid doesn’t have an off button. He takes his meds to go to sleep at 8 o’clock and they don’t even seem to begin to take effect until 10:30 or later.” Derek paused a moment, "That’s not the worse part though.”

Laura leaned forward. “Tell me!”

“He won’t stop calling me dude.” Derek sighed. “I made the mistake of letting him see it irritated me and now he is relentless.”

Laura laughed so hard ice cream came out her nose. “Oh my god! That is so awesome!”

“Thanks for the moral support Laura.” Derek chided, "Well, enough about my day. What’s new in your world?”

“Let’s see, I have one patient that thinks I’m a candy striper and there to wait on her hand and foot and another patient who wants me to be his personal stripper because I, and I quote, ‘have a body made for sin’.” Laura’s face showed her disgust clearly. “I can’t wait until that guy gets discharged. Though the jokes on him, I set him up to have a sponge bath courtesy of Rodrigo.”

It was Derek’s turn to choke on his ice cream. “Rodrigo? That’s the overweight orderly with the hygiene problem, right?”

“The one and only.”

“Remind me never to get on your bad side.” Laura grinned at him, reached over grabbed his spoon as she got up to put the ice cream away.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delayed update! My Mac died then was magically resurrected by Apple Support and then I broke my toe. Plus work in general! Hope you enjoy the chapter - again this work is completely unbeta'd.

Derek pulled into the high school parking lot at a quarter after three. School would be letting out in 15 minutes and he had to go check in with the office so they knew who would be picking up Stiles moving forward. The way the school had arranged it, it felt more like a prison transfer than picking up a 16-year old kid from school. According to his dad, Stiles had “conveniently” forgotten he was being picked up by his aide in the past and gone off on more than one misadventure, which led to the requirement of a direct handoff between the school aide and the home aide.

The school hadn’t changed much from when Derek attended, though clearly lacrosse had dethroned basketball as the popular sport. He could see why, you could get away with a lot more physical contact on the field than you could on the court. As he made his way down the hall and noticed his old locker, he felt a pang of sadness. The fire happened in the midst of his sophomore year and he and Laura moved right afterward. He never got to experience senior year with his friends, take part in the senior prank or walk at graduation. Instead, he did school online while seeing a therapist once a week to try and get over the loss of his parents, uncle and siblings because some faulty wiring in the attic shorted out and engulfed the house in flames within a matter of minutes. The only reason he and Laura were alive was because she was picking him up from some party where he had gotten so trashed he couldn’t drive. There were still days he felt like it was wrong that he lived and they didn’t. 

Derek shook his head a bit and reoriented himself. Now wasn’t the time for going down memory lane. He quickly made his way to the office and introduced himself to the secretary. 

“You’re the new aide for Stiles, huh?” She gave him a sympathetic look. “Hope you last longer than your predecessor, she only made it two weeks.”

“Well, I’m going to give it my best shot.” Derek replied.

“If you want to have a seat over there, classes will be let out in about 5 minutes and Mrs. Henderson will bring Stiles in.” The secretary waved her hand at the seats by the door and then turned back to her work.

Derek quietly walked over, took a seat and tried to prepare himself for his first full shift with Stiles. The day before had been an eye opener, but Stiles had been held in check a bit with his dad. Today, Derek doubted he would have the same luxury. Derek was stirred from his musings as the school bell rang and students began pouring into the hallway. A few moments later, a rather harried looking woman in her mid-fifties came through the door semi-dragging Stiles with her.

“Come along, Mr. Stilinski, you should know the drill by now.” Mrs. Henderson's voice exuded just how “done” she was with him and when she turned to look at Derek, her eyes lit up with hope. “Are you the new aide?” He nodded. “Excellent and look at you on time and everything! Here you go, Mr. Stilinski is all yours.” She pulled Stiles over into Derek’s general direction, then made an about face and walked out the door.

“She’s a peach, huh?” Stiles tilted his head towards the now closing door. “So, dude you ready for a night of fun out on the town?” Stiles waggled his eyebrows.

“Sure thing if that means going to your house and doing your homework.” Derek winced internally at the dude reference. 

“Dude! Don’t be a kill joy! My dad won’t care, we can attribute it to bonding time.” Stiles gave Derek’s arm a playful punch. “Man you are solid. Do you take steroids?”

“Stiles, lets focus on getting to my car okay. We can play twenty questions then.” Derek tried to redirect Stile’s focus before he decided to back down the ‘my aide is trying to steal and pawn my medication’ hole, but it was for naught.

“Dude, is that why you do in-home care? Steal and sell my meds so you can have ‘roid-rage?” In a stage whisper, he continued, “don’t you know what that does to your…”, Stiles gestured down to Derek’s penis.

The school office staff were clearly trying to act as if they were not listening to all of this, but the choked laughter and snorts gave them away. Derek grabbed Stiles by the shoulders, turned him bodily around and marched him out the door.

As they proceeded down the hall, Stiles demeanor suddenly shifted. Instead of trying to continue joking around about Derek’s supposed drug-enhanced muscles, he became very quiet and hunched over as if trying to make himself look smaller. Derek wasn’t sure what to think of it until a voice rang out.

“Hey retard! Looks like your dad found you a new babysitter. Maybe he can help you learn how to keep your stupid mouth shut for once.”

Derek looked over at what had to be half of the lacrosse team. They jeered and taunted as Stiles walked by and Derek’s glare did little to intimidate them. Stiles continued to keep his focus on the floor and tried to exit the school as quickly as possible.

“Is that a normal thing?” Derek asked as they reached his car.

“Dude, what do you care?” Was the response back. Stiles opened the door and then moved the passenger seat forward so he could sit in the back, just in time for the lacrosse team to come out and their ring leader, a douche bag with short blond hair to call out again.

“That’s right retard, get in the back! Don’t want you falling out and hitting that little head of yours again! Any more damage and you’ll be a vegetable.”

The guys on the team laughed and patted the blonde kid on the back as if he had said the wittiest thing ever.

“Who is that douche bag?” Derek wondered aloud.

“Jackson f’ing Whittmore. His daddy’s the Assistant D.A. so he thinks he’s the shit.” Stiles groused while slumping down further in the back. “You know, he gives me crap all day and my GPA is higher than his.”

“Not to knock your accomplishments, but I think beating his GPA isn’t that much of a challenge.”

Stiles snorted. “True. He is the epitome of a Neanderthal complete with his stupid lacrosse stick. I’m surprised he doesn’t hit Lydia over the head and drag her home by her hair after their dates.” Stiles anger and embarrassment slowly started to fade. At least Derek didn’t go try and scold Jackson like one of his previous aides. That had been the worst and it took months for them to stop bringing it up. “Well, take me home James.”

“My name isn’t James.” As Derek rolled his eyes in the rear view mirror.

“Fine. Take me home dude.” Stiles flashed a smug grin back at Derek, knowing that Derek had to be internally punching himself for falling into that trap. Finding nicknames that he hated was going to be so much fun.

“Seriously, can’t you call me by my name, Stiles?” Derek thought he and the kid were having a moment, but obviously if they were, it had passed.

“Dude, don’t be such a sourpuss!” Derek winced. “Sourbird?” Another wince. “Sourgiraffe? Don’t worry dude, we’ll figure out what animal works!”

Derek gave up and turned on the car. Maybe, just maybe Stiles will get focused on something else.

“Sourbat?”

Maybe not.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoy! I ended up getting a second story stuck in my head, so trying to write two stories at once now. Hope this doesn't utterly suck. :)

Throughout the ride back to his house, Stiles came up with more animals to compare Derek to. For Stiles, it was something to think about that didn’t have to do with Jackson and his cronies. Everyday, Jackson made his life hell. Scott was great, but they didn’t share all the same classes and because his school aide was a woman, there was no one to have his back in the locker room at gym. Jackson was getting bolder in his abuse of Stiles. It used to just be name calling, but things were getting more physical as the school year progressed. Stiles knew he needed to talk to his dad, but it would just be one more thing that other people would have to help him with. He was sick of being the brain damaged kid that everyone had to take care of and accommodate and coddle. He hated coddling. So instead of worrying about all that, he thought of animals.

“Sourhippopotamus? Oh I like that one! If it doesn’t work for you, I totally have to give that to someone else. I mean who doesn’t love hippos?” Stiles cracked up in the back seat.

Derek remained silent and schooled his face to give nothing away. Every time he allowed any emotion to cross his face, Stiles caught it and used it against him. Thankfully for Derek, it was just another ten minutes and they would be at the Stilinski residence.

“So dude, don’t forget I get a half hour of downtime when we get home.” Stiles had learned early on that most aides didn’t like to abide by the ‘Stiles gets a break between school and homework’.

“I am well aware of the routine. We just went through it yesterday, Stiles.” Derek replied succinctly.

“Just checking to ensure the only brain damaged one in the car is me buck-o.” With that, Stiles settled into the backseat for the remainder of the ride. 

_____________________________________________________________________________

 

Derek let Stiles hang out in the living room while he started a little clean up in the kitchen. Cleaning wasn't exactly in his job description, but if he had to cook dinner it would be nice to have a clean surface and dishes to do so. Stiles' dad had mentioned that now that they had a full-time aide again, he would be able to start catching up on the housework. Derek did notice all the pizza boxes were gone, so it was at least a start.

“Stiles, is lasagna okay for dinner?” Derek called out. Getting no response, Derek walked into the living room. “Stiles?” There was no one in the room. “Shit!” He exclaimed under his breath.

“Stiles?”

“Stiles?”

“Stiles?!” Derek was getting both frustrated and concerned. He felt like a special ops soldier clearing each room looking for a terrorist and fearing what he might find. After ten minutes of searching, he was in Stiles’ room and heard something above him. Opening the window he peered around and saw Stiles up on the roof!

“What the hell?” Stiles looked up at the exclamation.

“Hey there.” He at least had the decency to look guilty and gave Derek a small wave.

“What are you doing out here?” Derek was strongly considering a leash for the kid after this.

“It was a nice day and…” Stiles trailed off a bit. “I dunno, I just wanted to enjoy the sun.”

“You have a backyard that you could do the same thing in.” Derek countered.

“True.” Stiles nodded. “I’m like 20 feet closer to the sun up here though.” As if that made perfect sense.

“You need to get in the house right now!” Derek watched as Stiles worked his way back to the bedroom window. “How is this my life?” Derek said to himself.

“How is this anyone’s life?” Stiles answered. “Seriously, that is a great topic for my English essay!”

“Are you all discussing existentialism?” asked Derek.

“No, but that’s never stopped me.” Stiles climbed in the window with a smile. “Earlier this year, I detailed the entire history of the male circumcision for my Economics class.” 

“What does that have to do with Economics?” Derek was confused.

“Nothing, but it was interesting so I wrote about it.” Stiles replied proudly. "Plus the look on Coach Finstock’s face was priceless.”

Derek and Stiles went back downstairs to start on homework. “From now on you have to be in my line of sight. No more adventures on the roof.” 

Stiles rolled his eyes and grabbed his book bag. Tonight was Chemistry, which was the worst. Mr. Harris never broke down the assignments for Stiles, insisting it created an unfair advantage. The assignment for tonight was three pages of formulas that had to be broken out into various compounds. Stiles could already feel himself getting frustrated. There was no way he could keep everything straight. He dropped his head to the table with an audible thunk.

Hearing it, Derek came over to the table to see what was going on. One look at the assignment and he knew that this was not something Stiles could do independently. A quick search through the kitchen, he found some tape and index cards. He tossed them over to Stiles. “Here, write out each of the formulas on the index cards.”

“Why?” Stiles looked at Derek as though he had grown a second head.

“We’re going to tape them up on the wall and then pull one down at a time and figure it out. That way you can keep track of what is done and what isn’t.” Derek took two index cards and wrote ‘To Do’ and ‘Done’ and then taped them on opposite sides of the pantry door.

“That might actually work. How did you think of this?” Stiles was impressed. He had been ready to take an F on the assignment.

Derek shrugged. “I used to study for big exams this way. Made it easier to break information down and if I took a break, I knew where I left off.” 

“You don’t completely suck after all dude!” Derek rolled his eyes. It was better than nothing.

The evening continued without too much drama. At one point, Derek tried to get Stiles to take a break when it was becoming clear that he needed one and Stiles refused. Only to get overwhelmed about five minutes later and throw all of his books on the ground and toss his homework in the garbage. Derek calmly told Stiles to get up, walk around and then do 10 pushups while he fished the homework out of the trash. For once, Stiles didn’t argue or ask questions, he just did what he was told. He looked a little more in control of himself afterwards.

“Now pick up your books and lets finish the assignment.” Derek directed. Stiles nodded and he cheeks flushed a bit with embarrassment. “Hey, it’s no big deal. No one died right?” Stiles nodded, but kept his eyes focused on his homework. He hated losing control like that. Stunts like that were what gave Jackson fuel to keep tormenting him. Why couldn’t he keep it together like a normal person?

Stiles was rather subdued for the remainder of the assignment and Derek helped keep him focused while putting the lasagna in the oven. Dinner was not a special affair and before long it was time for meds and bed.

“Really you don’t have to sit with me. I promise to stay in bed like a good boy.” Stiles pleaded.

“Stiles, I’ve already had to get you off the roof once today, I’m not trying to go 2 for 2 on that.” Derek looked at him pointedly, handed out the meds and glass of water. Stiles grabbed the meds, swallowed them dry and looked at the water disdainfully.

“Water is for wimps.” With that, he turned and went upstairs to his room and flopped on to the bed with the disgust and attitude that only a teenager could pull off. “I better not catch you jerking off over there tonight.” Derek was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. Stiles rolled his eyes, wishing Derek would have opened himself up for a long blown out conversation about pedophilia, but he wasn’t biting. Trying to sleep with someone staring at you is next to impossible. His dad wasn’t too bad because he would read or something, but all the aides seemed to have a compulsion to watch him like a lion watches a gazelle. 

“Do you think we could put on a nature documentary about African cats?” Stiles asked. 

“Tomorrow for your free time if you want, but no screens in your room.” Derek looked around the room for a book to read. The walls were a muted blue. Stiles’ dad mentioned it was supposed to help promote calmness, but that it hadn’t really done much for the kid. Glancing through the shelves he saw ‘The Werewolf of Paris’ by Endore. That would fit the bill. Grabbing it, he pulled out the desk chair, set it in the corner by the window and proceeded to read.

Stiles took notice of the lack of eyes on him. “You’re not going to sit and watch my every move?”

“If you make a run for it, I’ll see that. Otherwise, I’d rather read.” Derek quietly flipped the page, not even looking over to Stiles when he spoke.

Stiles meanwhile looked a bit dumbfounded. “Well good. You keep that up you sourhippopotamus you.” He laid down and tried to think calming thoughts, but lions, gazelles, pedophiles and hippopotamuses kept making appearances. Slowly the medication began to take effect and Stiles thoughts grew slower and by 10pm he was out.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I haven't updated in forever! On a small vacation this week, so hoping to get some writing in.

“Don’t forget tonight’s the lacrosse game.” Stiles doesn’t even bother with a proper greeting or a joke on Friday when he is passed off to Derek in the school office. “I already talked to my dad and he is going to help me with my homework tomorrow so I don’t have to do it tonight.”

Derek simply nodded. Noah had texted him earlier in the day to confirm that Stiles indeed did have permission to skip homework tonight. “What time do we need to be back at school?”

“Game starts at 7:30, but I want to be here by 7 o’clock so I can watch Scott warm up and give him a pep talk.” Stiles appeared to be keeping a keen eye out as they traversed the halls and out into the parking lot. It looked like it would be a Jackson-free departure today. “You know, this is Scott’s first time starting a game and he needs all the support he can get.”

“You’ve mentioned it once or twice this week.” Or fifty, thought Derek. “Listen, my sister, Laura is actually off early tonight and is planning to meet us there to watch the game.”

Stiles head whipped around as they approached the Camaro. “I didn’t think she was old enough to have a kid on the team. Or that she even had a kid.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “She doesn’t have kids. She just wants to come out and support the team.”

“So your single, childless sister wants to come hang out and watch teenage boys play lacrosse? Yeah, no creep factor there. As a family, you really need to take a hard look at the life choices you all are making.” 

“Only you would make something as innocuous as my sister hanging out with her brother at a high school lacrosse game into something obscene.” Derek unlocked the car and gave Stiles a pointed look, “Get in so we can get to the house for dinner.”

“Aye, aye Captain.” Stiles popped to attention, gave a snappy salute and his trademark smirk and climbed in.

The ride home was quieter than usual as it seemed Stiles was a bit preoccupied. Derek kept glancing in the rearview mirror as he had quickly learned a silent Stiles leads to a destructive Stiles.

“Everything okay back there?”

Stiles head popped up, his mouth gaping slightly. “What?”

“Is everything okay back there?” Derek repeated again a bit more slowly, but received another blank look so he elaborated a bit. “You are uncharacteristically quiet today.”

“Uncharacteristically? That’s a pretty big, multi-syllable word there buddy. You should pace yourself, don’t want to go too big too quick in this conversation.”

Derek sighed. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Stiles used sarcasm to deflect from any real feelings. No one talked more, but said less than this kid. “Ha. Ha. Ha. How about this? What need to get done before we leave tonight?”

“I don’t have to do my homework. I tol-..” Stiles began to protest.

“I know that Stiles.” Derek reassured. “I meant what do you need to do to get ready for the game. Do you make signs or stuff?”

“Signs?” Stiles looked perplexed for a moment. “I didn’t think of that, but no, the only people that make signs are the girlfriends of the first line and as much as I love Scott, it is a purely platonic love.” Stiles scratched the back of his head and frowned a bit. “Plus, I don’t need one more thing for Jackson “I’m the World’s Biggest Douchebag” Whittmore to use as fodder against me.”

Derek decided to let the last comment slide as he and Stiles didn’t exactly have the best rapport yet. “Okay no signs. Do you want to eat at the house or we can go to the diner and pick up a burger and fries before?”

“Dude! Seriously?” Stiles almost bounced into the front seat causing Derek to swerve a bit. “Woah!” Stiles grabbed the front passenger seat to keep from falling into the side of the car. “Sorry about that. Uh, yes, yes burgers and fries sound great. Going to sit back in my spot now and not do that again.”

Derek held back a curse, at least Stiles realized his error and actually apologized. “Just don’t do that again okay?” Stiles nodded vigorously. “Let’s swing by your place first and you can drop off your stuff and we can grab your meds for later.”

“Did my dad tell you I don’t have to take my sleep meds tonight?” 

“Yeah, he mentioned that.” In the text about homework, Stiles’ dad also mentioned that he didn’t want his son on sleep meds while out of the house. That he could deal with the insomnia for the night so his son could enjoy a semi-normal Friday night.

Stiles face showed immense relief. “Good. I know I’d be home before they really kicked in, but they sometimes make me loopy and I don’t like to be like that in school. So, your sister is coming. What is she like? Is it one of those put a wig on you and boom it’s your sister type of deal?”

“I dare you to try that joke on her when you meet her tonight and see how that goes.” Derek could just imagine Laura drop kicking Stiles across the pitch. “She’s a nurse over at Beacon Memorial.”

“Does she work with Scott’s mom? What is her specialization? Has she ever used a defibrillator to bring someone back from the dead? Has she-…” 

“Woah! Too many questions at once!” It didn’t take much to get Stiles ramped up. “I don’t know if she works with Scott’s mom as I didn’t know Scott’s mom is a nurse. She is a registered nurse…” Derek held up his hand as he saw Stiles start to open his mouth to interrupt. “No, I don’t know what specialization and yes she has used a defibrillator, but she never told me the outcome so don’t ask.”

“Man, I can’t wait to meet her now. I have so many questions!” Derek felt slightly bad for his sister, but she did buy Chunky Monkey this week so maybe a little question session with Stiles will result in her making better ice cream choices.


End file.
